


A Masterpiece

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t what Hermione had in mind when she suggested Viktor take a class to help him relax</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TheWrittenDream based on a request on my [September Challenge](http://inell.livejournal.com/834960.html) post on LJ.

“You know, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Vot did you haff in mind, Hermione?” 

“I thought you’d sketch bowls of fruit and relax.”

“You vanted me to draw fruit?” Viktor asked as he looked up and smirked slightly. “I think I like my idea more. This does help relax me.”

Hermione wanted to glare at him but he looked mischievous in a way she found endearing so she couldn’t manage a scowl. Instead, she shifted on the pile of pillows and tugged on the scarf he’d tied around her wrists. “You didn’t have to tie me up,” she finally grumbled.

“Ve are learning of colors in class,” he told her patiently. “I must see colors against your skin for my project. You do not vish for me to fail, do you?”

“What does learning colors have to do with tying me up?” She arched a brow as she challenged him to get his way out of this one.

“Nothing,” he said matter-of-factly as he put down his paintbrush. He stood up and walked over to where she was lying, the look in his eyes making her shift. His fingers traced the rich burgundy silk that was tied around her wrists, and he smiled as he met her gaze. “Vould you like for me to untie you?”

“Well, if it will ruin your painting…” she murmured as she looked up at him.

“It vill,” he told her softly as he trailed his hands down her arms, which were bound above her head and resting against a pillow in a deep shade of ocher. His fingers skimmed the curve of her breasts and down her ribs. “You haff arch of back on pillows that makes breasts look like they are saying ‘touch me’. Ve learn of lines last veek in class. You haff most beautiful lines of anything I know.”

“My breasts always seem to speak to you,” she teased softly as his hands traced the curve of her belly.

“I am good listener,” he said earnestly even as he bit his lip to keep from smiling. He reached beside her, the hair on his belly rubbing against her bare skin as he picked up a gold scarf that he’d left there. He met her gaze and reached up to caress her cheek. “Vas good idea you haff. I am not good painter yet, but I vill get better. I do not think of stress vhen I am vorking, vhich is vot ve vant to, how you say, make happen? No, that is vrong vord. Vell, right vord, I guess, but not vords I vant.”

“Achieve?” she suggested helpfully. “Accomplish?”

“Yes, that is right vord. Accomplish,” he repeated slowly. 

He had been living in England for several years now, since taking a coaching job with Puddlemere, and he had a really good grasp on a pretty large vocabulary. She knew he got frustrated sometimes, though, because the words would be right there but he’d not be able to think of them. Despite being involved with him for nearly four years, she’d still not learned his language beyond understanding I love you, I want you, and a few words he tended to mutter when he was annoyed. 

The feel of silk against her belly pulled her from her thoughts. She looked down and saw him spreading the gold scarf over her belly. “What are you doing now, Viktor?”

Viktor smiled as he ran his hand through his hair, leaving the shaggy locks in a rather adorable disarray. “I like to touch belly,” he confessed as if she didn’t know this fact already. He’d liked to touch the soft swell of tummy she’d had when they first became lovers, easily getting rid of any insecurities she had regarding the lack of skinniness she possessed, and that particular fetish had gotten even worse over the last few months. “I vill arrange scarf then I vill finish project.”

She wanted to growl in frustration as his large hands moved over her bare skin. His knuckles brushed against her nipple as he spread the scarf over her body, and he smiled when he realized it was hard. He moved the scarf into various positions to see what he liked best, touching her until she was aroused and flushed.

“You don’t really intend to turn this painting in as your project, do you?” she asked as she shifted on the pillows. It was one thing to pose for him, especially when he’d asked so nicely and proceeded to seduce her to a point where she’d have been unable to deny him almost anything. It was another thing entirely to think of his class looking at a painting of her naked and judging her appearance with a critical eye.

“Do not vorry, Hermione. They vill not know it is you,” he murmured as he moved the end of the scarf between her legs. He spread it out and covered her curls before he let it go. She moaned when the material brushed against her wet cunt, spreading her legs automatically when it touched her. He groaned softly. “I vish I could create painting as beautiful as you, but I haff not the talent.”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered as she pulled at the scarf around her wrists.

“Am not,” he denied in the stubborn voice he always got when she got embarrassed by his compliments. She knew he was sincere and thought she was beautiful, but she found it somewhat difficult to believe even after all these years. “Now stop trying to seduce me. I haff vork to finish before I give you vot you vant. Be patient, Hermione. You always tell me about patience being virtue, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Hermione scowled at him because she really hated having her own words used against her, especially when she was aroused and at his mercy. He brushed his fingers over her lips, and she tried to continue scowling but ended up smiling.

“There. That is look that I vant for painting.” Viktor walked back to his canvas and picked up a paintbrush. “I vill paint you like this again. Ven you are big vith baby. Ve vill vait until ve are ready for that, but I vill be much better with paintbrush by then.”

“We will definitely be waiting until we’re ready,” Hermione agreed. They’d been talking more lately about starting a family, but she thought it might still be another year or two before they were ready to ease up on their careers enough to make that type of commitment. “And I don’t think I’d feel very sexy being tied up with a huge belly on display when I’m pregnant.”

Viktor looked at her and smiled. “I vill help you feel sexy. You haff no idea how sexy you always are, Hermione.”

“If you’re not crazy, you’re at least biased.” She tugged on the scarf tying her wrists together but was careful not to disturb the scarf he had placed over her belly. “Why did you choose Gryffindor colors for this painting?”

“You noticed?” Viktor shrugged a broad shoulder. “They vill not see your face, but I vanted to signify…no, that is not vord. Symbolize? Yes, that is right. I vanted to symbolize memory of vhen ve met. You vore burgundy and gold, and I fell in loff.”

“You fell in lust, which is very shocking considering I was such a young girl. You are a lecherous man, Viktor Krum.” Hermione shifted again, this time to deliberately bring attention to her breasts because she thought he might be unable to resist for much longer if she made sure to draw his attention to them.

“I vas good boy. I did not do things I vanted to do vith you then because you vere too young.” Viktor smirked slightly. “I could haff done those things because you vere daring girl, but I vanted more than that. Took you long time to figure out you vant me and those things, too. You tell me that I haff patience of saint, remember? Now, you are squirming and moving after only an hour. No patience at all.”

“I was clearly incorrect. You’re no saint at all. You’re a wicked devil,” she said, annoyed that her breasts failed to distract him from the painting. He just laughed and continued looking from her to his canvas and back again. She wasn’t one to give up easily, but he was moving into that intense mode that she knew from experience meant that she didn’t have a chance of getting him to release her until he was ready. She sighed and stopped struggling, focusing her attention on him and watching him paint.

Time passed, though she wasn’t sure how long. He finally stood and walked back over to her. “Something is missing. This is not right.” He moved the gold scarf again, caressing her belly and breasts with the end before he reached down to move her legs. “Open for me. You are so vet, Hermione. I vish I could capture the glistening in my painting, but I cannot.” He ran his fingers between her legs, teasing her with light touches as the end of the scarf brushed across her hard nipples.

“Stop teasing,” she muttered, knowing not to bother asking for more because he’d just scold her for being impatient and then take even longer to finish his assignment. Maybe suggesting he take the class was a bad idea. If he was already this demanding and focused in only the first couple of months, how would he be by the time it ended?

“I like teasing you.” Viktor suddenly pushed a finger inside her, making her gasp because she hadn’t expected it. “One day, I vill manage to paint this look and capture it. Flushed and desperate for release. So beautiful.”

He sat down on the sofa beside her, leaning over to lick at her nipples through the scarf. The texture felt different against her skin, and she liked it. He added a second finger and his thumb was pressing against her clit, rubbing small circles as her hips bucked up to meet his hand. “Viktor,” she whined, knowing that would be reaching for her wand to curse his arse if he dared stop now.

“I vant you to come for me, Hermione,” he whispered, kissing her deeply while fucking her with his hand. She wanted to touch him, to twine her fingers through his hair and tug him back down to her breasts, but she couldn’t do anything but curl her fingers into her hands and tug on the scarf tying her wrists together. 

After being together so long, he knew how to touch her and what to do to get her off fast. It wasn’t long before she arched off the sofa and came, squeezing his fingers tightly as he kept moving them inside her. After she stopped trembling, he kissed her and removed his hand, licking his fingers clean while staring at her with heavy lidded eyes. His erection was pressed against the front of his denims, but he wasn’t reaching down to free it.

When he noticed her staring at it, he chuckled. “Unlike you, I can be patient, loff,” he said, brushing a quick kiss against her lips. “I vant to finish painting before I sink deep inside you because I know I vill not vant to do anything else after I start that.” He puts the gold scarf across her chest, covering one breast, and tugging the material down to rest against her inner thigh where her legs are still spread. “Beautiful. Do not move.” He walked back to his easel and picked up his paintbrush. Looking at her, he smiled. “This vill be a masterpiece.”

 

End


End file.
